


The art of covering strawberries in chocolate

by blackmoonalcolyte (jomipay)



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Oscar tries anything in the kitchen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28601091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jomipay/pseuds/blackmoonalcolyte
Summary: Oscar smiles at the memory; he has by far the greater sweet tooth, but chocolate covered strawberries are something both he and Zolf enjoy greatly.He eyes the strawberries and the stove, sizing up his chances of success. How hard can just coating some strawberries in chocolate be?
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 15
Kudos: 46





	The art of covering strawberries in chocolate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [makesometime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/gifts).



> Domestic fluff is good for the heart. 
> 
> For Zoë 🖤

Oscar rolls over, dislodging one of the cats from its sport and getting a grumbling meow of protest. He’s confused about the lack of a second warm body

Oscar reaches out blindly with an arm, fumbling until his hand touches a furry warm body and offering it head scratches in apology. “Sorry Ernest.”

The cat says nothing in response, but Oscar feels the vibrations of his purring under his fingers. It’s still dark outside, far too early still for the sun to even think about rising and Oscar is at his wits end trying to sleep soundly. He flops onto his side, jostling where the other cat was fast asleep on one of his feet, and stares at Zolf’s empty side of the bed. It’s the first time since they’ve moved into the cottage that Zolf’s been away for more than a day or two at a time and Oscar misses him fiercely. He doesn’t sleep well when Zolf is gone. He tosses and turns and spends the night apologizing to the cats for his continuous movement. 

He sighs and grabs the pillow from Zolf’s side of the bed, hugging it to his chest while inhaling the familiar scent of Zolf’s shampoo and beard oil. Edgar crawls over him, having the decency not to step on his face (this time) on his way to lie on the pillow above Oscar’s head. He can tell it’s Edgar by the rough outline of his fur and the reflectance of his white splotches in the moonlight and his much fluffier general outline. Ernest is all black and sleek, a shadow that reminds him a bit of Sasha. Ernest settles in front of him, on the other side of the pillow Oscar’s wrapped around and he scratches behind his ears and strokes his back as he slowly falls back to sleep.

The next time he wakes, the first rays of dawn are peaking through the curtains and he gets up, tired of fighting to stay asleep. Besides, Zolf comes home today and he’s far too anxious for his return to rest properly. Perhaps he’ll fall asleep on the couch reading and be woken up by Zolf returning. The knot in his stomach tells him that little scenario is unlikely. He pads to the kitchen, both cats trotting along after him, eager for their breakfast. 

Oscar puts the kettle on with both cats winding around his ankles and then gives them their breakfast. He doesn’t want to eat, he’s not hungry, but he knows Zolf would want him to so he takes a slice off the loaf of bread Zolf baked before he left and slathers it with some butter and jam. Ernest brought him a mouse yesterday, obviously not convinced his human could feed himself. 

After finishing his meager breakfast, Oscar decides to pull some weeds in the garden and gather some spices and other fruits and vegetables for when he attempts to make Zolf dinner later. He lets the cats out with him and they bathe in the sun as he pulls weeds. Edgar plops down next to the patch of parsley and he bats at the brim of Oscar’s sun hat when he kneels down to pick some and put it in his basket. Oscar stokes down his back, picking some leaves out of his white and orange fur before resuming his task. 

It’s late morning when Oscar shepherds the cats back into the cottage, basket of picked herbs and other goodies in the crook of an arm. The sky is actively darkening and Oscar worries it might rain on Zolf’s journey home. Wet weather always makes his knees ache. Oscar goes to check their supply of bath salts to ensure the ones that really help to soothe Zolf’s joints are still in ample supply. 

He pulls out a recipe for stew and sorts through which ingredients he does and doesn’t have. Most things in the kitchen are built to be at Zolf’s height, with a small section of counter that’s a bit taller. Oscar always feels a tiny bit out of place in the kitchen without Zolf. The whole cottage, but the kitchen especially, feels colder without him. Gods but he’s a sap. Zolf’s only been gone five days. The cats are starting to look at him like he’s pathetic, though they seem to have no complaints about all of the extra attention they’re receiving. 

He faffs around the house for a bit more, wasting time, distracting himself and unable to sit still until it’s time to start on dinner. He coats the beef chunks in flour and spices like Zolf has shown him, grimacing as flour clings to his fingers and trying to shoo the cats off the counter and away from the meat. He’s not well practiced at this and the coating is uneven and when he drops them in the skillet to brown them, they brown unevenly, but he knows Zolf won’t care. He drops them and a smattering of vegetables into a pot of broth that Zolf had left him with and leaves it to simmer. Zolf puts the vegetables in at different times but Oscar’s never gotten the timing on that down so he just plops them in all at once and hopes for the best as he shuffles off to start running a bath, taking note of the slight chill seeping into the house and the drizzle starting outside.

Oscar pads around the kitchen, pacing as Edgar states from his perch atop the cabinetry. He gets the distinct impression he’s being judged...by an inscrutable, furry gargoyle. Oscar’s just looking for ways to waste time now and he spies the strawberries in his basket and is struck by inspiration.

_Zolf and Oscar stumble through the door to their new cottage, a bit tipsy, and giddy to be spending their first night in the cottage. Most things are still in boxes, but there are a few assorted kitchen necessities scattered about. All of the surfaces except for one small section of counter are built for Zolf’s height and there’s a huge window overlooking their garden where they’ll grow herbs and vegetables and just today, Zolf had agreed to a cat. Oscar is so happy. He drops to his knees and embraces Zolf, squashing his face into the flushed skin of his neck. Zolf’s arms wrap around his back and there is the press of lips to his cheek and then his jaw, and then a more heated nip of teeth down his neck, following his pulse that elicits a gasp. This seemingly encourages Zolf, who sinks his teeth deeper into the skin of his neck and sucks hard, precisely the way he knows Oscar likes while sinking a hand into his hair._

_Oscar turns his head so his mouth is against Zolf’s ear and he gasps into it, making Zolf twitch his hips forward, letting him feel the evidence of his arousal. This, more than anything else, makes Oscar moan._

_“Feeling amorous, darling?” Oscar whispers into his ear._

_“Mmm. Like seeing you on your knees, in our house, in my kitchen.” He growls, sliding a hand down Oscar’s back to squeeze his ass before lifting the hem of his shirt, trying to tug it off without unfastening the buttons._

_Zolf grumbles as he struggles to get him undressed and Oscar stands, eager to shuck his clothing. Zolf bends him over one of the low countertops as soon as he’s finished. The sound of a zip being undone makes him shudder and then Zolf’s clothed front is pressed to his naked lower back._

_“Maybe you’ll eat more if you remember this every time you walk into the kitchen.” And then Zolf takes him so thoroughly his legs wobble when he goes to stand when they’re finished. Zolf chuckles and scoops his legs out from under him, carting him off bridal style to their bedroom and setting him down on their enormous bed. He steps away to strip and then climbs up after him, sprawling over his chest and kissing him sweetly._

_Zolf wakes him gently the next morning. He slept so soundly he hadn’t even realized he’d been gone. He’s waving a chocolate covered strawberry in his face and Oscar props himself up on his elbows to take a bite of it, groaning as the taste of it bursts in his tongue, tart and sweet._

Oscar smiles at the memory; he has by far the greater sweet tooth, but chocolate covered strawberries are something both he and Zolf enjoy greatly. 

He eyes the strawberries and the stove, sizing up his chances of success. How hard can just coating some strawberries in chocolate be?

***

Zolf smiles when he finally spots the little cottage, boots sloshing through puddles on the little path. He is not prepared for the sight that greets him upon walking in. Oscar is in the kitchen, standing by the stove, which in and of itself is a bit disconcerting. The cats are perched on an arm of the couch watching intently.

It’s hazy in the kitchen and it smells like something is burning, and one of the windows is cracked open, confirming his suspicions. Oscar is bent over a pan of something, and it looks like chocolate is smeared over the counter and the stove. Another pot is on the stove but that one at least appears to be steaming rather than burning. Oscar is so wrapped up in whatever it is that he’s doing that he doesn’t notice Zolf until he calls out.

“Sweetheart?”

Oscar bolts upright and hides the still slightly smoking pan behind his back. His face isn’t quite the picture of innocence, but it’s a good effort. Zolf sidles forward, peering first into the pot on the stove, which turns out to be some kind of stew that smells and looks edible.

On a tray next to the chocolate splattered stovetop are several sorry looking strawberries, some unevenly coated in chocolate, others half covered and looking like they’ve been stabbed with a fork a bit too many times and bleeding juice. Some...he’s not quite sure what’s going on with some of them, but the chocolate covering parts of them looks uneven and grainy. 

Oscar shuffles backwards moving with Zolf so that he can’t get a good look at the pan behind his back. Zolf beans at him, amused to no end.

“Whatcha been up to, sweetheart?”

Oscar clears his throat and waves a hand. “Oh a little of this, a bit of that, darling.”

Zolf holds out his arms, knowing Oscar won’t be able to resist a hug. 

“What did you burn?”

Oscar sighs and finally sets the pan down on the stove before walking into Zolf’s arms and hugging him.

Oscar mumbles something that sounds like “chocolate”. 

“Excuse me, did you just say you burnt chocolate?”

Zolf peers around Oscar and examines the remnants of whatever’s in the pan, which appears to be strawberry guts and leaves and utterly brutalized chocolate. 

“I’m not teasing,” Zolf starts. Oscar gives him a look and Zolf quickly amends his statement, “Alright I am teasing, just a bit, but how did you manage this?”

Oscar flips his hair out of his face and there’s chocolate smeared on one of his cheeks. 

“I tried covering strawberries in chocolate.”

“Mmhmm.” Zolf smiles as Oscar’s ears start to redden. “I can see that.”

“And we only had so much chocolate and I needed more and I remembered you said you could thin it, so I added some water and—.”

Zolf cuts him off, giggling. “It’s oil, you’re supposed to add oil to thin chocolate.”

Oscar squints at the pan. “Ah.” He squints and then turns his attention back to Zolf, still not letting go of their embrace. “Well I thought maybe it was just cooling so I tried to turn the heat up and then it started smoking and I realized that probably wasn’t right.”

Zolf pulls away and thumbs the smear of chocolate off of his cheek before popping it into his mouth. “Looks like you managed stew alright, though.”

Oscar wrinkles his nose. “There’s a bath waiting for you.”

The ache in Zolf’s cheeks makes him aware that he hasn’t stopped smiling since he walked through the door. 

“Well let’s have some stew and then take some of these abominations,” he pats the tray with the misshapen strawberries, “to the bath with us?”

“Oh only if you don’t mind the company.”

“Never mind your company.” 

Oscar blushes. His blush is so obvious against the backdrop of his pale skin and bright white curtain of hair and Zolf adores it.

Oscar steps forward and takes his face in both his hands to give him a deep kiss. “Missed you.”

“Missed you, too.” 

Oscar smiles and Zolf loves his smile, loves him so much, and he’s so happy to be home. He turns the heat under the stew to its lowest setting and picks up the tray with the strawberries as he tugs Oscar toward the bathroom. 

“Come and feed me some of your horrible strawberries.”

Oscar laughs, coming along easily. “I must confess I thought it would be easy.” 

“It’s an art.” Zolf waggles his eyebrows. “Maybe I’ll teach you if you’re nice to me.”

“I’d like that, darling.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, loves!


End file.
